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VERSES 

MARY  WRIGHT  PLUMMER 


VERSES 


BY 

MARY  WRIGHT  PLUMMER 


NEW   YORK 

PRIVATELY   PRINTED 

1916 


COPYRIGHT  1916  BY 
FRANCES  PLUMMER  ANDERSON 


r* 


132. 


lift 


TN  1896  an  edition  of  three  hundred  copies  of 
Miss  Plummer's  "Verses"  was  printed,  mainly  for 
private  distribution.  The  little  book  has  long  been  out 
of  print;  and  this  new  edition  is  issued  in  response  to  re 
quests  made  since  the  author's  death  in  September,  1916. 
The  earlier  volume  contained  fifteen  poems.  These 
are  reprinted  here,  with  four  which  were  written  later. 


349126 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

"THE  WIND-SWEPT  MULTITUDE  IN  THE  INFERNO"     .  7 

IRREVOCABLE           9 

THE  DIVINE  RIGHT  OF  KINGS 10 

"AND  ENOCH  WALKED  WITH  GOD"       .         .         .  11 

MY  OWN 13 

LIFE 15 

Music 16 

OLD  AGE 17 

PRAYERS  FOR  THE  LIVING 18 

THE  Two  NATURES 19 

NATURE 21 

DISILLUSION  —  MORNING,  EVENING        ...  22 

INHERITANCE 24 

THE  BIRTHDAY  IN  HEAVEN 25 

THE  DEATH  OF  CESAR  —  CICERO'S  SOLILOQUY  .         .  27 

THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 28 

THE  CONQUEST  OF  THE  AIR 29 

LOST  CHILDREN 30 

REQUIEM  .  .  .32 


"THE  WIND-SWEPT  MULTITUDE 
IN  THE  INFERNO" 

EVER  we  drift,  drift, 
Swept  by  a  wind  we  resist  not, 
Whirling  and  turning  swift; 
Onward  we  drift,  drift, 
Blown  through  the  cloud  and  the  rift, 
Whither  we  know  not  and  list  not. 

Hark  to  the  curses  that  tear 

Their  way  through  the  rush  of  the  air ! 

Love  that  was  uncontrolled, 

Killed  by  the  ceaseless  cold, 

Holds  like  a  weight  in  its  arms  the  price  of  the  heaven  it  sold, 

Daring  its  voice  to  lift, 

Cursing  the  fatal  gift, 

Winding  in  closer  folds  as  onward  we  circle  swift. 

Ages  and  ages  past, 
Passion-enthralled  at  last, 


Lovers  were  drawn  and  held  and  borne  by  this  bitter  blast; 

Yet  and  for  ages  unnumbered  the  strong 

Pitiless  current  shall  bear  them  along, 

Driving  with  senseless  force 

All  that  resist  or  resist  not, 

Holding  its  changeless  course 

Whither  they  know  not  and  list  not. 

Aching  or  sting  of  pain, 

These  we  have  begged  in  vain, 

Only  to  dull  the  thoughts  keen-edged  that  cut  the  brain. 

Fools  to  beg  of  a  mindless  wind ! 

Fools  to  hope  that  a  sin  once  sinned 

May  ever  be  cast  behind,  — 

Forgot  in  our  endless  race,  — 

When  at  every  turn  we  see  it  lined 

In  the  look  of  a  pallid  face, 

As  we  whirl  and  cling  and  eddy  and  drift, 

Through  cloud  and  rift, 

Swift,  more  swift  — 

Whither  to  know  it  avails  not: 

Blown  by  a  tempest  that  fails  not, 

Ever  we  drift,  drift. 

1882 


IRREVOCABLE 

WHAT  thou  hast  done  thou  hast  done:   for  the 
heavenly  horses  are  swift; 
Think  not  their  flight  to  o'ertake  —  they  stand  at  the 

throne  even  now. 
Ere  thou  canst  compass  the  thought,  the  immortals  in 

just  hands  shall  lift, 

Poise,  and  weigh  surely  thy  deed,  and  its  weight  shall  be 
laid  on  thy  brow; 

For  what  thou  hast  done  thou  hast  done. 

What  thou  hast  not  done  remains;   and  the  heavenly 

horses  are  kind: 
Till  thou  hast  pondered  thy  choice  they  will  patiently 

wait  at  thy  door. 
Do  a  brave  deed,  and  behold!  they  are  farther  away 

than  the  wind; 
Returning,  they  bring  thee  a  crown  to  shine  on  thy  brow 

evermore; 
For  what  thou  hast  done  thou  hast  done. 


1882 


THE  DIVINE  RIGHT  OF  KINGS 

TH  E  right  divine !    What  king  that  hath  it  not  ?  — 
The  right  to  look  through  all  his  realm  and  see 
What  fever  courses  in  the  people's  veins, 
And  lay  thereon  the  balm  of  kingly  hands; 
To  turn  aside  the  treasonable  blade, 
And  make  a  friend  of  him  who  carries  it; 
To  bind  up  public  wounds;  to  put  away 
The  screens  wherewith  men  hide  accusing  truth, 
And  speak  grave  words  when  these  befit  the  time; 
To  sow  the  land  so  full  of  happiness, 
Of  peace  and  justice,  love  and  courtesy, 
That  ships  bound  seaward  unto  fabled  shores 
Shall  never  tempt  his  people  otherwhere. 
Such  right  divine  as  this  hath  every  king. 

The  Atlantic  Monthly 
May,  1882 


10 


"AND  ENOCH  WALKED  WITH  GOD" 

OTHOU  who  in  time's  morning  walked  with  God, 
Nor  heeded  that  the  world  paths  crossed  thine 

own, 
Who,  listening  to  the  music  shed  abroad 

By  that  one  Voice,  heard  not  the  other's  tone 
Mocking  at  him  who  walked,  or  seemed  to  walk, 
alone, 

Tell  us,  who  long  to  know,  what  converse  sweet 
Fell  from  your  lips  ?  what  troubled  questions  lay 

Answered  and  clear,  ere  thou  couldst  frame  them  meet, 
In  that  bright  light  of  Truth,  the  perfect  day, 
W'here  vexed  problems  smooth  and  solve  themselves 
away? 

Didst  know  what  field-flowers  fluttered  'neath  the  hem 
Of  thy  long  garment,  or  what  birds  of  song 

Circled  around  thee,  or  what  light  wind  came 
Lifting  thy  locks  the  while  ye  walked  along, 
Seen  and  unseen,  the  marveling  world  among? 


11 


Vain  questioning!  for  answer  as  thou  mightst, 
Our  ears  are  holden  that  we  cannot  hear; 

The  soul  that  walks  with  God  upon  the  heights 
Hath  secrets  voiceless  to  the  alien  ear. 
To  him  that  is  of  God  the  things  of  God  are  clear. 


Unity 
1883 


12 


MY  OWN 

BROWN  heads  and  gold  around  my  knee 
Dispute  in  eager  play; 
Sweet,  childish  voices  in  my  ear 

Are  sounding  ail  the  day; 
Yet  sometimes  in  a  sudden  hush 

I  seem  to  hear  a  tone 
Such  as  my  little  boy's  had  been, 
If  I  had  kept  my  own. 

And  ofttimes  when  they  come  to  me 

As  evening  hours  grow  long, 
And  beg  me,  winningly,  to  give 

A  story  or  a  song, 
I  see  a  pair  of  star-bright  eyes 

Among  the  others  shine  — 
The  eyes  of  him  who  ne'er  hath  heard 

Story  or  song  of  mine. 

At  night,  I  go  my  round  and  pause 

Each  white-draped  cot  beside, 
And  note  how  flushed  is  this  one's  cheek, 

How  that  one's  curls  lie  wide; 


13 


And  to  a  corner  tenantless 
My  swift  thoughts  go  apace  — 

That  would  have  been,  if  he  had  lived, 
My  other  darling's  place. 

The  years  go  fast;  my  children  soon 

Within  the  world  of  men 
Will  find  their  work,  and  venture  forth 

Not  to  return  again; 
But  there  is  one  who  cannot  go,  — 

I  shall  not  be  alone,  — 
The  little  one  who  did  not  live 

Will  always  be  my  own. 

The  Century  Magazine 
March,  1882 


14 


LIFE 

CFE,  we,  thy  children,  cling  about  thy  knees 
And  pray  for  largess;  some  are  babes  that  turn 
Sweet  faces,  sure  of  answer,  yet  to  learn 

That  suns  may  shine  and  they  be  left  to  freeze; 
And  some  cast  fiercely  at  thee  words  that  burn, 

Or  all  thy  steps  with  bitter  'plainings  tease; 

And  some,  grown  mute  from  many  unheard  pleas, 
Go  from  thee,  looking  back  with  eyes  that  yearn. 

What  charm  is  in  unmotherly  caprice 

That,  rather  than  be  led  to  endless  peace, 
We  court,  on  bended  knee,  thy  constant  frown  — 
Ay,  even  invite  the  smiting  of  thy  hand, 
So  we  stay  with  thee?    Shall  we  understand 
When  thou  hast  loosed  our  fingers  from  thy  gown  ? 

Magazine  of  Poetry 
1889 


15 


MUSIC 

WHEN  in  the  shadow  of  the  twilight  room 
We  sit  together,  opening  each  to  each 
Our  stores  of  hope,  our  depths  of  unbelief, 
And  comfort  comes  with  speech,  until  the  soul 
Lays  warning  finger  upon  eager  lip 
And  we  are  silent,  trusting  not  to  words 
The  very  innermost,  —  then  come  the  tones 
Of  masters  who  have  voiced  in  other  years 
All  we  would  say  of  longing  and  of  trust; 
Softly  the  notes  lead  heart  to  heart,  and  blend 
Into  one  chord  of  effort  triumphing 
The  weakness  of  our  spirits.    When  the  lights 
Come  glimmering  in,  eyes  turn  to  questioning  eyes 
And  read  the  secret  music  has  betrayed. 

1888 


16 


OLD  AGE 

NO W  is  he  come  unto  that  countryside 
Past  the  last  outpost.    Here  Life  loosely  reigns, 

Asking  no  tribute  from  the  deadened  plains 
Where  stealthy  mists  creep  from  the  rising  tide. 
If  there  be  fellow-travelers  in  this  vast, 

Scarcely  he  knoweth.    Voices  that  he  hears 

Sound  far  away  and  strange  unto  his  ears, 
Commingled  with  the  echoes  from  the  past. 
He  hath  outstripped  the  mirage  of  his  prime 

Long  since;  and  journeying  on  to  dip  his  hand 
Into  Truth's  fountain,  he  hath  come  to  know 

Truth  for  the  chiefest  mirage.    On  the  sand 
Lappeth  the  river  at  the  bounds  of  Time. 

His  dull  ear  listens;  —  must  it,  then,  be  so? 

1890 


17 


PRAYERS  FOR  THE  LIVING 

OSOUL  of  all  souls  whitest,  what  needst  thou 
Of  solemn  masses  who  with  angel  choirs 
Dost  chant  enraptured  thy  most  pure  desires, 
And  to  the  heavenly  will,  as  erst  on  earth,  dost  bow  ? 
What  can  I  ask  for  thee,  in  halting  prayers 
Heavy  with  grief,  that  could  increase  thy  bliss? 
What  in  thy  perfectness  can  be  amiss 
Who  grewest  to  angelhood  all  unawares? 
Rather  pray  thou  for  me.    And  when  ye  stand, 
Making  petition,  folding  wing  on  wing, 

Drooping  your  eyes  before  the  glory-light, 
Think  if  thou  mayst  on  him  who,  wandering 
Along  the  lower  way,  hath  lost  thy  hand, 

Yet  seeketh  for  thy  footprints  day  and  night. 

1890 


18 


THE  TWO  NATURES 

WHERE  hast  thou  been,  O  Soul,  in  thy  sojourning 
Out  of  the  body  ?  on  what  high  emprise, 
What  noble  quest,  that  thus  to  me  returning 

I  labor  at  my  anchor,  fain  to  rise? 
What  king  hath  entertained  thee,  condescending 

To  share  his  plenty  with  thy  low  estate? 
Why  turn  away  from  so  divine  befriending, 
To  keep  thy  faith  with  me  inviolate? 

Nay,  chide  me  not,  and  strive  not  with  me  longer; 

Breathe  thou  alone  the  air  thou  lovest  best. 
Some  day,  perhaps,  thy  loyal  wings  grown  stronger, 

Thou  mayst  with  hope  disturb  me  where  I  rest. 
Now  through  thy  ether  shouldst  thou  lead  me,  breathless, 

To  that  high  Presence  where  thy  name  is  known, 
Into  that  circle  heaven-born  and  deathless, 

How  should  I  shame  thee,  stained  and  earthy  grown ! 

Sad  is  thy  mien,  ay,  even  unto  weeping.  — 
Car'st  thou  so  much?    Are  we  so  firmly  one? 

Lift  me  again  from  out  this  deadly  sleeping; 
Help  me  to  raise  mine  eyes  unto  the  sun. 


19 


Yea,  where  thou  soarest  I  will  follow  after  — 
Far,  far  below,  yet  always  in  thy  wake; 

Should  I  sink  back,  remember  it  hereafter, 
Thus  have  I  striven,  and  striven  for  thy  sake. 


1892 


20 


NATURE 

THOU,  Nemesis,  whom  the  old  Greeks  did  name 
Sternest  of  all  who  claimed  their  vow  and 
prayer, 

Pleased  by  no  gifts,  choosing  thine  altars  bare 
Till  he  who  gave  should  cleanse  himself  from  blame, 
Thou  ceased  pursuit  when  restitution  came, 

And  turned  thine  eyes'  grave  searching  otherwhere, 

While  the  light-bosomed  wretch,  free  of  thy  care, 
Felt  his  heart  leap  with  joy  no  past  could  tame. 
But  we  of  our  day  own  a  bitterer  fate,  — 

(Who  would  not  justice,  even  if  justice  slay?)  — 
For  scarce  man  knoweth  if  he  violate 

Our  goddess*  bidding  till  her  reckoning-day; 
Then  slowly  he  perceiveth  his  estate: 

Not  he  alone,  but  heirs  unborn  must  pay. 

1891 


21 


DISILLUSION 
MORNING 

OME,  Sweet,  the  world  is  wide;  so,  hand  in  hand, 
V-^  Let  us  fare  forth  to  win  our  victories. 
Thou  shalt  be  queen  of  beauty  and  of  love, 
As  in  the  old  bright  days  of  tournament; 
And  I  will  wear  thy  colors  in  my  heart, 
And  on  my  brow  the  seal  invisible 
Of  thy  true  kiss:  so  shall  before  me  fall 
All  shapes  of  evil  that  infest  the  light. 
And  when  the  jousts  are  ended,  and  the  games, 
Thou  shalt  sit  proudly  upright  in  thy  place, 
And  while  the  world  is  wondering,  all  agaze, 
Lo,  at  thy  feet  my  garlands  shall  be  laid.  — 
For  half  my  strength  is  thine,  being  come  from  thee 
And  that  sweet  faith  that  armors  me  anew. 


22 


EVENING 

The  days  are  short'ning.    Wilt  forgive  me,  heart, 

For  the  long  turmoil  I  have  led  thee  through 

And  to  no  end?     I  meant  it  otherwise; 

But  one  right  arm  is  weak  against  the  world. 

Here  on  thy  shoulder  let  me  rest  my  head, 

My  weary  head  that  aches  from  life's  long  din; 

And  in  thy  comforting  let  me  forget 

The  disappointment,  and  the  hidden  foe, 

And  all  that  made  my  days  a  vulgar  strife, 

Unheralded,  untrumpeted,  uncrowned. 

My  strength  is  weak  beside  thy  steadfastness, 

And  there  takes  refuge.    If  thou  cherish  it, 

Then  to  have  failed  and  yet  to  win  thy  smile, 

Ah,  love,  is  victory  beyond  desert. 

Scribner's  Magazine 
August,  1887 


23 


INHERITANCE 

O  LITTLE  child,  through  what  long  leagues  of  pain 
Tendeth  thy  life,  if  our  God  will  it  so ! 

Through  what  deprivement  of  the  heat  and  glow 
That  wait  on  action,  and  are  counted  gain ! 
How  by  thy  couch  the  dull  hours  stretch  their  length 

That  slip  like  molten  silver  through  the  hands 

Able  to  answer  to  the  world's  demands, 
Giving  it  all  their  skilfulness  and  strength ! 
God  solve  this  problem  for  us !    When  a  soul, 

A  little  soul,  of  Thine  own  essence  pure, 

Waiteth,  expectant,  for  the  earthly  frame 

In  which  it  would  do  service,  true  and  sure, 
Why  should  a  past  obscure,  beyond  control, 

Clothe  it  with  suffering?    Is  Thy  law  to  blame? 

1890 


24 


THE  BIRTHDAY  IN  HEAVEN 

WHAT  will  they  bring  thee,  Sweet,  to-morrow's 
dawn- 

Our  three-year-old,  whose  birthday  is  in  heaven? 
For  the  earth-happiness  thou  hast  foregone 

What  will  they  do  to  make  the  balance  even? 
Do  the  grave  angels  love  as  mothers  love? 

And  is  there  one,  just  one  from  all  the  rest, 
Whose  arms  were  first  to  cradle  thee  above, 
To  whom  thou  turnest,  whom  thou  lovest  best? 

Yea,  surely  mother-hearts  in  heaven  must  beat, 

Else  't  were  not  heaven,  and  God  were  God  no  more;  — 
Could  He  be  happy  in  His  holy  seat 

If  any  child  stood,  homesick,  near  the  door? 
Tell  that  dear  angel  that  doth  keep  our  child 

To  hold  thee  close  to-morrow,  and  to  press 
Upon  thy  brow  grown  radiantly  mild 

All  that  we  would  of  lingering  caress. 

Tell  her  on  earth  we  brought  thee  toys  and  flowers, 
And  told  thee  stories  when  thy  birthday  came; 


25 


Say  to  her  that  when  thou  wast  wholly  ours 
With  love  unspeakable  we  called  thy  name; 

And  when  the  shadows  fell,  —  rememberest  thou?  — 
How  thou  didst  nestle  down  in  sheltered  sleep! 

Who  sings  to  thee?    Whose  arms  enfold  thee  now? 
To  whom  has  God  my  jewel  given  to  keep? 

Be  not  unhappy,  Sweet.    Enjoy  her  care; 

Go  to  her  first  of  all  the  heavenly  host; 
But,  oh,  do  not  forget  me,  is  my  prayer ! 

I  am  thy  mother;  —  love  me  still  the  most. 

1890 


26 


THE  DEATH  OF  CESAR 
CICERO'S  SOLILOQUY 

AY,  look,  and  look  again,  at  him  who  bore 
The  world  and  flinched  not,  but  an  hour  ago. 
In  his  colossal  shadow  yours  was  lost: 
"Down  with  him,  down,  that  we  may  see  ourselves!" 
He  lies  there;  —  are  ye  greater  than  before? 
Beyond  the  door  the  world  he  carried  waifs 
To  fall  upon  your  staggering  feebleness 
And  loosen  into  chaos  once  again. 
Flee  ye,  indeed !    From  that  still  figure  prone 
Stretches  a  shadow  that  may  well  affray. 
Living,  it  alternated  with  the  sun; 
Dead,  it  creeps  onward,  licking  up  the  light. 
So  have  ye  chilled  the  pulses  of  the  world 
Into  stagnation.    Flee,  and  be  content ! 

1895 


27 


THE  CHOSEN  PEOPLE 

THY  chosen  people,  Lord!    Aye,  and  for  what? 
Chosen  to  bear  the  world's  contempt  and  scorn; 
Chosen  to  cringe  and  fawn,  contrive  and  plot, 
Only  to  win  the  right  to  live,  being  born; 
Chosen  to  bow  the  neck  and  bend  the  knee, 
To  hold  the  tongue  when  other  tongues  revile, 
To  bear  the  burdens,  bond-slaves  e'en  when  free; 
Give  cheerfully,  be  spit  upon  and  smile; 
Chosen  for  death,  for  torture  and  the  screws, 
While  the  slow  centuries  move,  they  say,  toward  light! 
Lord,  from  the  horrors  of  this  endless  night 
Let  us  go  free !  —  another  people  choose ! 

New  York  Times 
November  24,  1905 


28 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  THE  AIR 

ANOTHER  world  we  have,  we  that  have  made 
J\  Desert  and  pit  and  battlefield  of  earth, 
Ravished  her  treasures,  brought  from  riches  dearth, 
Stifled  her  fountains,  plucked  away  her  shade; 

We  that  have  poisoned  with  the  cities'  reek 
All  her  fair  rivers,  stol'n  the  cataract's  flow, 
Trampled  in  greed  her  helpless  ones  and  low, 
And  in  bloodthirstiness  have  slain  her  weak. 

Now,  in  our  grasp  almost,  Thy  wind  and  cloud, 
Thy  winged  fugitives,  Thy  snow  and  rain, 
Sunbeam  and  starbeam,  yea,  Thy  lightnings  proud, 
We  have  stretched  out  our  hand  for,  not  in  vain. 
Seeing  what  desolation  we  have  made 
Of  Thy  first  gift  —  Lord,  art  Thou  not  afraid? 

New  York  Times 
September  16,  1908 


29 


LOST  CHILDREN 

OTHOU,  whose  mother  sought  in  vain 
A  shelter  once,  at  Christmastide, 
And  so  with  kindly  beasts  was  fain 

To  beg  the  rest  elsewhere  denied. 
Do  Thou,  from  terrors  safe  long  since, 
Remember  in  Thy  feet  the  prints, 

And  in  Thy  hands  the  nail, 
Look  where  the  little  children  stray, 
Roofless  and  cold,  this  Christmas  Day, 

Unknowing  why  they  ail. 

Thou  hadst  Thy  mother  —  on  her  breast 

In  safety  warm  and  soft  didst  lie, 
Nourished  wast  Thou,  and  to  Thy  rest 

Wast  soothed  then  by  her  lullaby. 
See  Thou  how  these  are  scattered, 
Parents  and  friends,  to  seeming,  fled, 

The  world  a  stranger  place; 
So  sad,  how  can  their  angels  brook 
Upon  these  little  ones  to  look 

And  then  behold  His  face? 


30 


Again,  as  once  in  Palestine, 

Let  men  bring  gifts  from  near  and  far  — 
Again,  above  the  hovel  mean, 

See  clear,  as  they,  the  guiding  star. 
May  hearts,  grown  over-wise  and  cold, 
Bring  myrrh  and  frankincense  and  gold 

To  deck  the  humble  stall; 
And  make  Thou  us,  for  one  child's  sake, 
Wherever  lost  young  hearts  do  ache, 

Fathers  and  mothers  all! 

New  York  Times 
December  20,  1914 


31 


REQUIEM 

WHAT  is  this  drawing,  drawing,  —  soft  and  strong 
As  it  would  clasp  me  to  a  sheltering  breast  ? 
What  is  this  rhythmic  pulsing,  faint  and  long, 

As  it  would  chant  me  to  a  place  of  rest  ? 
What  is  this  gentle  loosening  of  my  hold 

On  all  the  treasures  gathered  through  the  years  ? 
What  is  this  radiance  of  pearl  and  gold 

Shining  and  glowing  through  a  mist  of  fears? 
What  is  this  turning  of  my  eyelids,  slow, 

As  they  would  rest  upon  some  light  afar? 
What  is  this  greeting,  greeting  sweet  and  low, 

Wherein  at  last  no  sounds  of  parting  are  ? 
Whose  is  the  welcoming  face  that  bids  me  come? 

Thou  ?    Is  it  Thou,  O  Lord  ?    Then  this  is  Home ! 

August,  1909 


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Plummer,M.W.          3*9126 
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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


